Give In
by HobbesIsReal
Summary: What state is Clarke in after she leaves Camp Jaha alone? The Ice Nation poses a threat. What happens when Clarke and Lexa reunite? Canon per season two. Have been writing this since seeing the season three trailer. Rated M for potential later chapters. I do not own the characters.
1. Chapter 1

It had been two weeks since Clarke left Camp Jaha.

Clarke spent a week walking south along the river in a daze, crying for hours at a time and screaming herself hoarse until her ragged body succumbed to sleep. In wakefulness, emotions racked her insides - grief, guilt, remorse, and shame for what she had done at the Mountain. There was pain and anger, too, and bitterness and resentment. But those feelings were more personal. Clarke cried through the growing knowledge that she did not - could not - hate Lexa. She understood. She hated that she understood. And she hated that she had done something even worse than Lexa. But she could not unsee all that she had done, and she could not shake the tremendous guilt.

In the beginning of this self-imposed exile, Clarke gathered berries and nuts from the trees around her and drank from the river whenever she wandered close to it again. Her pants started to fit more loosely, but she barely noticed. She ate out of necessity, out of basic survival, not because she felt hungry.

She had come to terms with herself. She knew that the past was in the past. But she wasn't ready to move forward either. Clarke was in limbo. She knew that as soon as she returned to her people, she would have to work on the future, whatever that meant.

So she spent another week in solitude. Through reasoning, her mind was as at peace as she supposed it would ever be, but her heart still ached and the guilt didn't subside.

Clarke kept walking during the second week. She vaguely noticed that the river became wider and wider whenever she went near it again, and suddenly it gave way to the ocean. She followed the coast on its northerly path and though she wanted to walk along the beach every day, she stuck to the wilderness, only just keeping the shore in sight.

It was in this second week when she no longer cried herself into dead-like sleep that she truly started to suffer.

As sore as she tried to make her muscles each day, she would only sleep for a couple hours at a time before waking from horrible nightmares. They replayed everything over and over and the screams and gunshots seemed almost amplified, louder than they had been in real life. She saw everything in sickening detail, as if the nightmares had taken images from her mind and zoomed in on them.

Sometimes Clarke woke up drenched in sweat with her limbs paralyzed and her chest heaving, and it would take many long minutes before her breathing slowed and she could pick herself up.

Often times when she woke, she simply vomited. And as the state of her stomach deteriorated, and her mind returned to her horrific acts she committed while she was awake, she vomited before she could cry or scream for the agony of it all.

She found more obscure places to hide herself than she had before. Some of the fog that clouded Clarke's mind had dissipated and she knew she should make more of an effort to not die in the woods. She made traps to catch small animals to add to her diet. The traps were not perfect, but she got them to work. She was not sure if she was really skilled enough with the dagger strapped to her thigh to attempt killing larger animals. Half the time she could barely stomach the small amount she trapped anyway. She also knew she should save the bullets in her pistol for enemies, not food. The Mountain Men were no longer a threat, but she didn't know who else might be looking for her. Clarke wondered if her people were trying to forge a new alliance with the Grounders. Or perhaps her people sought retaliation. She could not decide which she hoped for.

The weapon on her hip had started to feel like an anvil at her side. She became so used to the feeling of the dagger in her hand, using it to splinter wood for kindling and skinning the animals she caught. Something in her started to dread under what circumstances she might fire a weapon again. She tried not to think about it, and purposefully avoided touching the cold, black metal. Clarke had only drawn her gun a couple of times when she heard noise close to her. One had turned out to be a black bear, and Clarke did not wait to find out if it was hostile or indifferent to her. She ran until her lungs burned and figured she had put enough space between them.

The other time Clarke heard movement in the woods and drew her weapon, she had not been able to find out what - or whom - it came from.

Two days after that unnerving experience, Clarke's solitude ended prematurely.

—-

It was mid-morning, and Clarke turned the roasting squirrel over the fire she made after checking her traps. She sat cross-legged and her eyes eventually got lost in the flames, and she let herself fall into a rare moment when her mind went mercifully blank.

"Clarke," she heard her name from behind a tree some 20 yards away. She knew the voice but she still rose quickly to her feet. Even as she saw Lincoln emerge with his empty hands raised in surrender, she unsheathed her dagger.

"I'm here to give you a message." He said, lowering his hands slowly.

"Who sent you?" Clarke asked, her voice rough from not being used for so long.

"The Commander sent Indra to us with news." Lincoln said, and he walked closer as Clarke sat again and stabbed her dagger into the ground with a huff.

"There is a ceasefire between our people. It's not peace, but they've agreed not to attack each other." He explained. Clarke raised her eyebrows and waited for him to arrive at the message he was sent to deliver.

"The Ice Nation has a bounty on you and some of the Sky People, and some from other clans are swaying from the coalition too." Lincoln's voice was still as Clarke remembered it - urgent, but even and clear. Something about it comforted Clarke in spite of hearing that she was being hunted.

"What do they want with me?" Clarke turned the squirrel over the flames again, avoiding Lincoln's serious face. She felt his gaze cross over her, then to the animal she was distracting herself with. Silently, he moved closer and knelt down on one knee a few feet away from her.

"Some say they want to use you as leverage against the Commander, as they have done in the past." Lincoln started. Clarke felt a pang in her stomach. Costia. Did people really think that she and Lexa had the same kind of relationship?

"Whether or not that is true, you are seen as a threat. Powerful. The Commander has reason to believe you, and some of the Sky People, might be kidnapped for information."

Bile rose in Clarke's throat and her stomach felt sour, but she kept her eyes on the flames. She didn't know what was more frustrating - the fact that they were in danger yet again, or that it was because of yet another, unknown enemy. Or at least, unknown to her. The tired numbness of her muscles and her mind prevented any outward sign of panic, but her skin felt hot, tingling uncomfortably. Lincoln remained silent, almost serene, allowing her thoughts to coalesce. Clarke appreciated this. Lincoln's silences were easier to bear than most of the Grounders'.

Clarke took the squirrel off its spit and set it on a rock to cool.

"I assume the _Commander_ expects me to help her deal with this?" Clarke emphasized the title sardonically.

"She has not requested a personal audience with you. But she has requested that you be brought to Polis. From here, it's the closest place that your safety can be assured." Lincoln did not exactly answer her, and Clarke's brow furrowed. Questions entered her mind rapidly. Was Lexa avoiding her? How long had she known about this new threat? Why did Lexa seem to feel responsible for Clarke's safety? How did Lincoln find her?

"How far is Polis from here?" Clarke asked Lincoln, as this was the simplest question she could have an answer to right away.

"A day's walk. We can arrive by nightfall if we aren't interrupted."

"Do you think we will be?" Clarke asked, giving him a hard look. He did not look concerned, but he tilted his head slightly, as if to say he could not be sure. Clarke's face settled into a hard frown, and they both let silence fall again as Clarke pulled meat off the squirrel and handed some to Lincoln before picking some for herself. He nodded his thanks, then stared into the trees, chewing lazily.

Clarke mulled over what Lincoln told her. She could not explain the bitterness she felt about Lexa trying to ensure her safety. She trusted that Lincoln about the ceasefire, but what kind of welcome would she receive if she walked into Polis? But, she realized, she had not given much attention to where or how far she walked over the last two weeks. Now Lincoln could lead her to a place where, theoretically, she would be safe until she could arrange to get back to her people. Clarke didn't like it, but it was unwise to be by herself now. She had to go back. They finished eating and Clarke stood up abruptly.

"Let's go, then." She said, and she stomped out the fire. Lincoln nodded and set off. They walked several feet apart, and both kept their eyes moving around the forest, watching for anything unusual. After a while, Clarke turned to look at Lincoln.

"How did you know where I was?" She asked quietly.

"Scouts." He said, not looking at her.

"The Commander's?" He nodded.

"Her best." Lincoln added, and Clarke was not sure why.

"Since when?" She pressed. Lincoln was silent then, almost as if he didn't want to tell her. But he knew, and Clarke's eyes bore down on him.

"Maybe a day or two after she found out you left camp alone. I'm not sure when the scouts caught up to you." At this, Clarke glared angrily into the scenery around her. She thought of that terrible first week. Someone had seen that, possibly reported it back to Lexa. Her cheeks flushed and all she could think was that she didn't want Lexa to know…

Know what? That she was human? That she did something terrible that her conscience couldn't quite reconcile? Or was it weakness? Was it cowardice? She had no idea what Lexa might have thought if she had spied on Clarke herself.

"They're not still following us are they?" Clarke asked suddenly, turning her head to Lincoln again.

"No," he responded, "I sent him ahead to Polis. I gave him a head start before I approached you." And Lincoln looked at Clarke.

"I didn't think you would appreciate a whole day's journey with a stranger to overhear you." Then Lincoln raked his eyes through the trees again. Clarke eyed him wonderingly, and pressed her lips together - the closest thing to a smile she could manage.

"Thank you, Lincoln." He gave the smallest of nods.

They walked for hours without speaking again. At one point, Lincoln reached into a pouch in his coat and wordlessly handed strips of dried meat to Clarke. She thanked him with a nod. After that, Clarke's mind wandered for a while and she pictured the faces of the 44, of her mother and Kane.

"Lincoln…" Clarke started, but she dryly swallowed over a lump that formed in her throat. Lincoln slowed their pace a little and stepped closer to pass her a canteen of water. She took a sip and sighed. She took another drink and handed it back to him.

" _Chof._ " She said, and he murmured " _pro_ " before taking a drink himself.

"Is everyone ok? I mean…" And she didn't want to ask out loud if anyone else was dead, so she continued, "How's Octavia?" She saw his brow relax slightly at the name, but he kept his eyes trained on their surroundings.

"No deaths since the mountain. Octavia…" Even the slight pause caused Clarke's heart to beat faster.

"She's trying to figure out where she belongs." He said. Clarke wondered if Lincoln was projecting how he felt about himself onto his partner, but didn't say anything. Octavia had become so independent. She had really only ever belonged with Bellamy before, but the ground changed that. Clarke thought Octavia deserved to belong to herself and perhaps with Lincoln. Clarke would, hopefully, be able to determine more once she saw Octavia and the rest of her people.

But at least there were no deaths since Clarke left. That knowledge fueled Clarke for the rest of their walk to Polis.


	2. Chapter 2

Lincoln and Clarke somehow reached the forests surrounding Polis without incident. The sun was just setting in the distance. As soon as the walled city was visible through the trees, Lincoln seemed to relax and stiffen at the same time. At first, Clarke didn't notice that he halted. She turned to face him.

"I am not welcome here. I will stay and watch to make sure you enter the gates." He said.

Clarke ached with feeling all at once. His people had exiled him, at the very least. She did not ask if he would be killed on sight if he approached the city. It wasn't relevant in the moment. Silence had become a little bit more natural to Clarke, although not as ingrained as it was in the Grounders. Still, he cared that she would be safe, and wanted to see her admitted with his own eyes. There was a brief moment when she feared walking through the gates alone and what would meet her on the other side, but she decided to trust that, presently, Lincoln seemed to believe it was best.

She held out an arm to Lincoln, and he grasped her forearm briefly, but with all his strength. Clarke wanted to melt into the gesture. She hadn't felt another human being since she and Bellamy hugged weeks ago. Clarke suddenly ached for more contact, but knew she wouldn't find anything more with Lincoln.

As soon as they released each other, Clarke turned and immediately made her way toward the gates of Polis. She saw the guards standing post from a long way off, and she was sure they saw her too. They did not draw their weapons, and were stationary until she was close enough for them to open the gates and let her pass - not a word exchanged.

Clarke saw Indra before anyone, or anything else. Indra was unsurprised to see her - Clarke knew she was expected.

"I want to see the Commander." Clarke said dangerously. She had not planned on saying this. She didn't know, even as she said it, if she did want to see her. But Clarke could not think of anything else to do in this place. She had been invited here personally, though it felt lifetimes ago, by Lexa. Indra looked at her in a scrutinizing way for a second, then called to a guard in Trigedasleng. Within moments, Indra handed her a hooded cloak and told her to put it on.

"Keep your head down." Indra warned before marching off, and Clarke followed her.

Lexa's words proved true.

Clarke once said that Lexa had already changed what she thought about the people born on the ground, but nothing could have prepared her for what she saw on her walk through what was only a small portion of Polis. There were huts, clearly residential, followed by others that were inhabited by artisans, craftsmen, and blacksmiths. Then the path morphed into a thoroughfare for the inhabitants of the area. There were stalls and shops open for trade of all sorts of goods. There were also vendors for food and drink, and children played and jostled with each other between the stalls and across the path she followed. Clarke could not stop herself from thinking of the Mountain. There were so many that would never live a full life - free and in the open air, like the people she just saw. Clarke felt the sting of this realization, her stomach burning, felt the weight of the young ones that, because of her, would never grow into old ones.

They walked for longer than Clarke had expected, and she realized how big the city must be. Clarke followed the general, and the sound of life and activity faded as they approached a massive, towering building. Guards were positioned every ten feet around it as far as Clarke could see. They entered and Indra led them to an elevator. When they were inside it with the doors closed, it lurched upwards jerkily and it shuddered periodically. When they exited minutes later, Indra led Clarke down a series of hallways flanked by guards and stopped in front of a door.

Indra turned to her. Clarke stood still and tried to discern the expression on Indra's face. The Grounder's eyes crossed over her much as Lincoln's had - as if they only just recognized her and weren't sure how to feel about her. But Indra didn't look at her as coldly as she had in the past. There was respect in her eyes.

"You may enter." She said finally. Clarke glanced over and saw a strip of light emanating from the bottom of the door. Her heart fluttered uncomfortably out of nowhere. She didn't look back at Indra, and strode purposefully to the door.

She moved past the guards, who remained motionless. Once she was inside, Clarke took in her surroundings, and found that the war table and other furniture in the room were arranged almost exactly as they had been in Lexa's temporary camp tent. Lexa stood, statuesque, closer to the back wall of the room. She was wearing her full gear, but her face was free of paint. She said nothing. Clarke could faintly smell fresh smoke, and reasoned that the lanterns and candles must have been lit shortly before her arrival. The walls were bare and she didn't see any personal effects anywhere. It was somehow far less inviting even than the camp tent had been.

As Clarke continued to look around the room, Lexa's wide eyes quickly took in Clarke's form, as if assessing her health and checking for injuries. Their eyes finally met. Lexa still said nothing.

The pain of connecting with Lexa's eyes again hit Clarke like a punch. Her chest felt painfully tight yet empty as waves of resentment and abandonment washed over her. Tension made the air thick and the blonde was aggravated by the silence. How could the Commander say nothing? How could she stand there so stoic and solid and composed? Clarke remembered why she was there and suddenly she exploded into anger.

"What?" She fumed. "What now? You saved your own skin at Mt. Weather, and I killed hundreds of people to save my own. And now I have to do whatever you say because your damn problem with the Ice Nation is putting all of our people in danger? Really, Lexa?" Clarke almost spat her name.

"My concern is your safety. And the safety of both our people." Lexa said evenly. Clarke scoffed, and took menacing steps toward the Grounder.

"Now you're concerned. Now that my people might get tortured for information on how to break you and end your coalition."

"Yes." Lexa did not argue. Her calm against Clarke's rage was too much. Clarke pulled the knife from her thigh, lunged at the Commander, and held the knife to her throat. Clarke glared into her eyes but was instantly distracted by Lexa's expression.

Lexa was looking at her like she couldn't believe she was real. Like the space between them was still too much. Lexa's lips were parted, almost expectant, and Clarke couldn't help taking in the warrior's whole face. Lexa even leaned forward into the knife, as if daring Clarke to do it. The knife closed in on unmarked flesh as Clarke moved closer to her again, gripping the blade tighter. The brunette's lips pressed together, but her eyes kept searching the other girl's face, and Clarke could only stare back into the deep, green eyes.

Clarke's jaw was set, clamped so tight it started to hurt. She wanted to scream. She knew she wasn't going to hurt Lexa. This is a tantrum, she thought to herself. She was acting out because her body was overworked and she didn't want her hand forced to make decisions about people's lives again. Not so soon. She wasn't ready for another war. Her people weren't either.

"Shit!" Clarke's voice was all exasperation as she pushed the other girl away and threw the knife away from them and her hands rose to own head. She could no longer look at Lexa, whose eyes she felt still piercing the back of her head. One of Clarke's hands fell to her side and the other pressed a thumb and forefinger to her own eyes, rubbing them. She took a deep breath, noting the continued silence of the Grounder.

"And you've had your soldiers following me this whole time." Clarke spun around and locked eyes with the other girl.

"Yes."

"Why?" Clarke asked through her teeth. Lexa's head moved somewhat to the side, clearly thinking the reasons were obvious.

"We were monitoring all your people as they left Mt. Weather. I needed to know if there were signs of retaliation. I was told you left your camp alone, so I made sure scouts followed you to keep you safe and report back."

"Keep me safe? What do you care? You left me to die anyway." Clarke's bitterness surfaced from the same place her anger had. Lexa was still talking strategy, politics, leadership. Clarke didn't care about that anymore.

"I do care, Clarke. You need to stay safe because you are valuable." Lexa pressed, and a quick breath left Clarke's nose as she grimaced.

"To you, or to your people?" She challenged.

"Both." And Lexa said it so quickly and so calmly it wiped the grimace from Clarke's face instantaneously. "You are valuable to the enemy as well. Do not forget that." Lexa tilted her head once warningly, and Clarke shifted her feet.

"Right. So do you have a plan?" She sighed heavily. Lexa nodded.

"I plan to ride with you tomorrow back to your camp. We will talk with your people about how to keep all of you safe from the Azgeda until a permanent solution can be agreed on. But it is not safe outside the city walls. You must stay here until morning." Lexa's tone had become deadly serious, and her eyes were bearing down on Clarke oppressively.

In the moment, Clarke glowered back and said, "What permanent solution do you hope to achieve with the Sky People when you betrayed the first alliance we had?"

The Commander did not answer right away. She considered Clarke for a moment.

"That is what I wish to discuss with you and your council tomorrow."

"Well you had better have a pretty convincing argument," Clarke sneered, "Because I can't imagine they're too pleased with you."

"If we do not ally again, Azgeda will kidnap your people and torture them, one by one if they have to." Lexa's tone was severe, quivering with unease. "They will use what they learn against me and the other clans - against my people. If we cannot protect each other, it is almost certainly mutually assured destruction."

"You expect the Sky People to trust the protection of the Grounders? That didn't exactly pan out for us last time."

"No." Lexa conceded, and she clenched her jaw. "But the Ice Queen will offer no deals. She will only destroy. This time, if we do not protect you, we risk not only your people, but our own as well."

And Lexa held Clarke's gaze intently as the blonde shifted her weight again, frowning.

"I don't know how well sense is going to overcome what my people must be feeling." Clarke concluded.

"That is why you must attend the council. It makes sense to you, and they listen to you." Lexa said simply. Clarke knew she was right. Once again unable to meet Lexa's stare any longer, Clarke closed her eyes. Her hands balled into fists at the thought of fighting with the Ark council. She was so tired. She didn't want to fight anymore. She didn't want another war. But if Clarke didn't at least try, she knew there would almost certainly be one anyway.

"I guess that's the best it's going to get right now." Clarke opened her eyes to stare at the ground between them and forced her hands to relax.

"Clarke." Lexa said. The blonde only raised her eyes as far as the sleeve of Lexa's coat, her lips pressing together.

"I must ask you to stay in the tower tonight." Her voice was low as she made the request again, and Clarke thought she saw Lexa's hand give an almost imperceptible jerk. Neither spoke for another long moment.

"Please." Lexa actually pleaded.

Clarke sighed deeply. Her body ached, her eyes itched, and she felt like she was barely able to formulate a coherent sentence anymore. She shrugged and shook her head, not looking at the other girl, finally saying, "Fine. I'll stay. But if I'm trapped here…" But she sensed more than she saw or heard, Lexa shift. She glanced back up, and saw that Lexa's shoulders had relaxed somewhat and a glimmer of relief glowed in her eyes, however hard she was trying to remain stoic. Clarke then felt almost guilty for how harshly she had been planning on speaking. She felt her jaw clench and she closed her eyes again, forcing herself to make the best of the current situation. "I'd really like to bathe. If that's possible." She heard her own voice, almost foreign with the exhaustion she could no longer hide.

Lexa's eyes lingered over Clarke for a second or two, then gave one small nod before disappearing out the door. Clarke sighed again. She wandered slowly, feet shuffling slightly, toward the war table that had evidently been brought to Polis after the attack on the Mountain. Her eyes gazed across the table as she rested her hands on it, leaning forward and feeling the tightness of the muscles in her back. The same maps were arranged as they had been the last time Clarke saw them, until she noticed that they were all somewhat askew. It looked as if the model of Mt. Weather, which was nowhere to be seen, might have been violently pushed off the table, disturbing everything around it.

Clarke tried to imagine it - Lexa throwing things or hitting them in distress after finding out what she had done at Mt. Weather. But she had never seen Lexa lose control like that. Even in anger or fear, the Commander conducted herself like a leader, like a warrior. Calculated, calculating… dangerous.

Only in a vulnerable moment, in the camp tent, did Clarke see the eyes of Lexa - the young Grounder, hardly older than Clarke herself. Lexa, the person who loved once without claiming it was weakness. Lexa, the one who let her guard down just long enough to show Clarke… she was not heartless. She was not heartless, and her heart yearned for the girl that fell from the sky.

Today, however, the mask of the Commander was firmly in place.


	3. Chapter 3

Clarke stepped back from the table when she heard the door open. A middle-aged woman slowly entered, carrying a large, deep jug of water with tiny wisps of steam rising off of it. She had dark hair and simple braids, and a face that looked older than it should. As she passed, she made eye contact and bowed her head low to Clarke. She disappeared into the connected room in the back. Lexa was right behind her, also carrying a full jug.

Lexa nodded her head slightly, beckoning Clarke to follow. They walked into the room beyond, which appeared to be Lexa's bedroom. There was a large, ornate bed covered in furs and flanked by nightstands, and on the back wall, a table with two chairs on either side, and a low dresser. A rod and curtain were installed in lieu of a wall to separate the bathroom beyond. The curtains were thrown to the sides and Clarke saw a large clawfoot tub, another chair with a robe slung over the back, and a stand with a shallow ceramic basin and towels resting upon it. The Grounder woman and Lexa poured the contents of the jugs into the tub while Clarke stopped and stood to curiously examine Lexa's room, which was almost as stark as the main room they just left. The Grounder woman took Lexa's jug from her and exited.

"You may choose clothes from here," Lexa gestured to the dresser, "and I can arrange for yours to be washed, if you wish."

Clarke looked down at her own clothes. She had been rinsing them in the river or the ocean when she was alone, but they looked limp and dingy.

"Some… soap would probably do them good." Clarke admitted.

"When your bath is prepared, you can leave them with Reed." Lexa remained still, her eyes not leaving the other girl's face, as if waiting for Clarke to think of anything else she might want or need.

Clarke stared back almost unseeingly, not caring about anything but the warm water she would soon be enjoying. Her eye twitched slightly from exhaustion and as she lifted her hand to rub at it, she absently said, "Okay. Yeah."

Lexa's forehead almost imperceptibly furrowed, and her eyes studied all of Clarke's face momentarily before she spoke again.

"I will send a rider ahead to let your people know we will arrive tomorrow to talk. I will be nearby. Should you need anything." Her head lowered by a fraction and she pointedly caught Clarke's eyes, as if to say, anything at all. Then she walked into the main room, and Clarke heard her speak softly in Trigedasleng. The woman from before, who she now assumed was Reed, returned with another, younger Grounder. They were both carrying the same large jugs and each of them nodded respectfully as they passed.

Figuring that they would probably be making a few more trips, Clarke decided to explore the dresser and hopefully find something comfortable for the night. After opening a couple drawers closest to the table and bed, she found underwear, bandeau-style wrappings, and a pair of looser cut-off pants that were made of something soft. She found many tops that had large, open necklines, and picked a darker colored one. She stacked them carefully on top the of dresser. She watched as the two women came and went again, and both nodded each time they made eye contact. Clarke paused when they were out of the room, her hands wavering in front of the other drawers. She opened one, finding pants, leg wrappings, and socks. She removed a pair of socks, in case she might want them later. The drawer below held thick outerwear, clearly meant for colder weather so she closed it without taking anything. She opened the top drawer on the far right, the back of Clarke's hand brushing the curtain that separated her from the bathroom.

Clarke froze. Her right hand unconsciously clutched the top of the drawer and her eyes roved over what was inside. She saw dozens of whittled wooden trinkets. There were tiny boxes, rings, carved figures, and even what appeared to be necklace charms with holes large enough to be threaded with a lanyard or string. She thought of Finn and the figures he had made for her and for Raven. Clarke felt her stomach churn with the suspicion that Costia must have crafted these for Lexa. She also briefly wondered if Lexa kept something like any of these items on her person. Clarke had never noticed Lexa wearing anything like what she now saw before her.

She heard the two Grounders enter, and she used her body to hide the contents of the drawer from their view until she heard water pouring once again into the tub. She gingerly closed the drawer and turned in time to see the younger woman exit, nodding to her once again. She looked over to Reed, finding her by the chair next to the tub, back straight and eyes fixed hard, but patiently. Reed tapped the robe on the chair before moving to the blonde and gently laid a hand on her jacket then waved the hand back towards herself. Clarke understood and went to sit on the chair to remove her boots. As she set her boots aside and slid the jacket off her stiff shoulders, Reed pulled the curtains closed. As Clarke undressed, she did not hear any movement, but saw the shadow of the older woman standing motionless just beyond the curtain. She put her holster and gun next to the stand with her boots. Clarke carefully folded her own clothes and pulled the robe on.

She walked over to the curtain and pulled it back enough to see Reed, who immediately took the pile of clothes from her with one hand, and the other reached into her pocket to withdraw a lump of soap, which she offered Clarke from a flat palm.

"Thank you," Clarke murmured graciously as her hand met the waxy block, but Reed's thumb closed over the back of Clarke's hand, and her forefingers brushed her wrist. Clarke felt a sharp intake of breath in her lungs as she met the eyes that were flashing, moving back and forth to each of Clarke's eyes.

" _Wanheda_ ," she whispered solemnly, " _mochof_ ," and Reed's fingers pressed a little more firmly as she repeated, " _mochof_."

Clarke's heart was beating rapidly, and she nodded shakily before the woman released her and took her leave, guiding the the door of the bedroom closed until it was only slightly ajar.

Clarke took a deep breath and it rattled when she let it out. She jerked the curtains closed again roughly and paced around the tub a few times, not wanting to imagine the story behind this woman's words to her. She closed her eyes and after a moment she shrugged the robe off and finally lowered herself into the warm water. She couldn't hold back the sound that escaped her as her muscles melted into the sensation - a combination of a sigh and a moan. She let herself lie still for a moment, and for that moment her mind was void of all thought. Clarke had learned by now the feeling of weightlessness that came from floating in the river or the ocean, but she relished in this new sensation of water that was warm, and she enjoyed the silence. But it was interrupted by Reed's words repeating in her mind. She sat up and grabbed the soap from the chair where she had left it, and started to push it forcefully against her skin. She hoped doing something with her hands could distract her, but by the time she had scrubbed her whole body raw, the word "Wanheda" still rang in her ears.

Her arms hung limply over the sides of the tub and she vaguely registered the soap suds drifting around and occasionally popping into nothing. Her eyes glazed over as images of bubbling, irradiated skin overcame her. She could swear she smelled the burning flesh and hear the screaming silence of hundreds of people that were once alive but very suddenly dead.

The soap fell from her limp hand and clattered onto the floor, yanking Clarke back to the present. Her limbs rushed together and she sat, trembling, in the fetal position. Clarke tried to take slow breaths but her chest was heaving. Her shaking hands gripped her knees in an attempt to calm them.

Soft, padded footsteps were just discernible in the main room, and she supposed Lexa had taken off her boots and remained nearby, as she said she would. Questions burned in Clarke's throat. Her eyes clamped shut until she saw blinding white and she waited for her breathing to calm. She pressed her lips together tightly before she leant her forehead to her knee and called softly, "Lexa?"

She heard the other girl open the door of the bedroom and judged by the shadows that she stopped a couple feet from the curtain.

"Clarke." She said calmly.

" _Mochof_ means 'thank you' doesn't it?" She knew the answer to this question, but she wasn't sure yet how to voice all the other things she wanted to know.

"Yes." Lexa answered after a couple seconds. Clarke lifted her chin to her knee so her voice wasn't muffled.

"Reed thanked me before she left." She waited during the longer pause this time before Lexa responded.

"Many of my people are grateful to you for destroying Mt. Weather. Every generation of every clan has lost many to the Mountain Men." Lexa spoke evenly, but there was a gravity in her tone. Clarke felt like her lungs were full of lead.

After a deep, quiet inhale she asked, "Why did Reed thank me?"

There was an empty silence. And then, it seemed Lexa realized that this conversation through the curtain would continue. Clarke heard a click and the warrior's long coat fell against one of the chairs.

"One of her sons was a prisoner in the mountain. He was returned to her in improved health a week ago." Lexa explained. Clarke did not have a response to this. She felt bile rise in her throat and thought she might throw up. She tilted her head back and forced herself to breath regularly.

"Reed sees you as a powerful leader." Lexa added. Clarke bit the inside of her cheek and held herself a little tighter. She heard the clink of another buckle and the rustling of clothes, then the opening of drawers. She listened to what sounded like the donning of soft clothing.

"So… you have no other Commander duties tonight?" Clarke asked. Again, there were a few seconds of silence before Lexa simply responded, "Not tonight." Clarke shut her eyes and idly wondered why it relieved her so much to know Lexa wouldn't be leaving.

A hush fell then that neither could explain. It was as if the next words spoken by either one would determine the atmosphere of the rest of the night.

"Come in here to talk to me." Clarke said, and she didn't know why she said it, but it seemed right. She could feel the stillness of the air and knew that Lexa was not moving.

"You won't see anything. Just come in." She offered, knowing that the soap-clouded water and the way she was sitting hid her nakedness. She could almost hear Lexa bowing her head in soundless debate. But finally, after the opening of a drawer, a scrape, and the knock of the drawer being closed again, Clarke saw Lexa slip through the curtain. She kept her eyes fixed either on the floor or on the item held loosely at her side, Clarke couldn't tell. She paced to the chair next to the tub and turned it to face the opposite direction so that even in her periphery, she might only be able to make out Clarke's face. But as she sat down the green eyes fixed low on the wall in front of her.

Lexa had changed clothes, as Clarke guessed. She was wearing clothes similar to those Clarke had picked out for herself. The pants were more form fitting, but the top was similar, and the short sleeves and open neckline showed tattoos as well as kill marks, etched into the soft skin. From what she could see, there were more kill marks than she had seen on any other Grounder, but still fewer than Clarke expected.

"What does _Wanheda_ mean?" Clarke asked abruptly. Lexa's expression did not change, but she moved to put the object in her hand, which Clarke saw was a wooden comb, onto the stand.

Leaning back to the chair, Lexa stated, "It means 'Commander of Death.' It is what my people call you now. After the Mountain." Her hands rested plainly on her thighs, and her eyes fell warily to Clarke's gun, which lay only feet from her.

"Now I am become Death," Clarke murmured, echoing words she felt she said centuries ago.

"Destroyer of worlds." Lexa finished flatly, her eyes still lingering fixedly on the wall before her. Clarke lifted her head from her knee, and looked wonderingly over at the brunette, whose muscles seemed relaxed even though she sat up straight and composed, just this side of uncomfortable.

Lexa had not moved, and she was making a point not to look in Clarke's direction.

"If you're not going to look at me when you talk, do something. It's weird with you just sitting there." Clarke said. Lexa blinked, and after a moment, her arm rose to her head and moved the long mane of hair to the side opposite Clarke and began to remove the ties that held in her braids.

"You read, then?" Clarke asked, glancing over again. She saw Lexa blink and nod simultaneously. Clarke's brow furrowed.

"What else do you enjoy? When you aren't the Commander?" The blonde realized her limbs were no longer trembling. She let herself stretch out again, submerged in tub, lying back and letting her fingers dance over the surface of the water. She saw Lexa's jaw clench slightly, but the girl was still deftly untying her braids, placing the ties on the stand next to the basin.

"I enjoy art." Lexa said, but it sounded detached, as if art was something she used to enjoy, but did not anymore. Lexa may have enjoyed art, but the Commander didn't. Or perhaps couldn't.

Clarke wanted to think this was some kind of confirmation that what she found in the drawer was indeed something to do with Costia. Clarke felt this would not be the moment to bring it up, though, and didn't know what to say next.

The water was not as warm as it had been when she got in, but it was still comfortable. The combination of the bath, her exhaustion, and the realization that Lexa was sitting next to her tending to her own hair while she was naked in a bathtub washed over her without warning. Her heart swelled in spite of herself, and somehow she could not take her eyes away from the girl using her strong, nimble fingers to let loose her intricate braids. It was such an intimate moment - the kind of moment she never expected to share with Lexa. The brunette still didn't glance anywhere in Clarke's direction.

"Why won't you look at me?" Clarke asked. At that moment, Lexa had hit a snag in one of the braids she was working loose, and the girl reached for the comb and used both hands to tame it. She didn't speak until she was able to run her fingers through smooth hair again.

"You have seen me vulnerable. And you…" Lexa paused, threading fingers through another braid carefully, "were vulnerable with me in a moment."

There was another silence as she continued her skillful work and Clarke waited, watching.

"But you told me you were not ready. Not yet."

At first, Clarke expected her to continue, but realized that for the Grounder, what was said explained everything. Lexa's honesty and transparency, even if it was given in few words, left Clarke taken aback.

A defeated breath left Clarke's lips because she realized that the weight of why Lexa was not looking at her now was as heavy as why those intense green eyes refused to look away before.

The two of them sat in silence for a while. Lexa had undone all of the braids in her hair and combed through it. Clarke leaned back in the tub, her body inanimate and almost numb. But her heart alternated between light flutters and painful thuds against her ribs. The reality of what she and Lexa could and would do - what they had already done - for their own people battled with the reality that she and Lexa were perhaps the two people on the ground that understood each other the most - understood the pressure, the loss, the pain.

Though the betrayal of the alliance was obviously problematic in a political sense, the impact the betrayal had on Clarke personally was equally hard to ignore. What decision would Lexa have made if she could have gone with her heart? Given whatever that was, perhaps Clarke would not have the pain she did, the weight on her conscience, the images that remained vivid in her mind and did not permit sleep.

Lexa finished combing out her hair and twisted it loosely to rest over her right shoulder.

"You must rest, Clarke. Your eyes are tired." Lexa said quietly. Clarke found this a rather euphemistic way to say that the bags under her eyes were horrendous. She lifted her hands above the water and wondered at her wrinkled fingertips.

"Even when I'm drained, I can't seem to sleep much anyway." She mused, and rubbed her fingers against her eyes until sparks exploded behind her eyelids. Clarke thought about getting out of the tub. She thought about getting dressed and settling herself down and praying, as she had for what felt like ages, for peaceful sleep. Just thinking about it gave her a sense of hopelessness. She sighed, turned her head and stared at Lexa, whose eyes followed her own fingers as they dragged across the comb, tooth by tooth.

"Do they ever stop?" Clarke asked, and thought maybe she sounded like a child. Lexa's fingers halted. Her jaw clenched and Clarke thought her eyes were watering. But Lexa set down the comb on the stand and when Clarke found her face again, her eyes were dry.

"Lexa," Clarke almost pleaded. She had to know she wasn't the only one. She had to know that she hadn't cracked because of how painful the things she did and the things she saw really were. Or at least if she had cracked, it wasn't just her.

"Please look at me," There was a quiver in Clarke's voice and Lexa finally, solemnly, turned her head and directly pierced the blue eyes with her own.

"Do they ever stop?" Clarke asked again, and her eyes were willing Lexa to understand. The brunette's expression was sullen.

"The nightmares?" She confirmed gently. When Clarke nodded, Lexa's eyes fell to the floor.  
"They become… less frequent. Over time." Lexa spoke calmly, but there was a jolt in Clarke's stomach when she saw something in those green eyes - was it defeat? And Clarke watched as the Commander's mask fell over her face, eyes suddenly stony again. Lexa calmly stood up and, still making sure not to glance over, retreated behind the curtain. When she returned she brought the stack of clean clothes and placed them on the chair.

"You must try to rest." She said, and Clarke heard the addition of 'try' to her statement. That made it easier somehow for her to nod and Lexa seemed to sense the movement.

"Are you hungry?" Lexa asked as she turned to face away. Clarke's stomach felt hollow, but the thought of food made her feel sick again.

"No." Lexa started to pull the curtain to leave again, and Clarke couldn't stop her voice.

"Lexa-" The brunette stopped, turning her head slightly back toward her, eyes fixed on the ground. But Clarke didn't even know what to say. It was as if there was a tether attached somewhere within her ribcage that gave a painful tug when she saw Lexa's back to her. Lexa blinked in the silence.

"I will be nearby. Whenever you are ready." She waited for Clarke to nod again and as soon as Clarke shifted in the water, Lexa left and pulled the curtains closed.

Clarke dressed and ran her fingers through her hair. Her eyes fell on the wood comb that still rested next to the shallow basin. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands. It was masterfully made, and on one side of the handle Clarke saw a design carved into it. Her neck felt hot as she realized she had seen it not moments ago. The tattoo on Lexa's arm was almost identical to the carved image on the comb.

Clarke could not look at it anymore and felt it might start to burn her hand if she kept holding it. She quickly set the comb back on the stand, sure not to let it clatter. She pulled the curtains back and found the lantern-lit bedroom empty. She walked to the doorway and leaned against it when she saw Lexa fussing with maps and papers at her war table.

"Where am I sleeping?" Clarke asked quietly. Lexa's movements did not stop, but there was a pause before she spoke.

"Separate accommodations have been arranged. It would be safer for you to stay here." Her voice was flat, deadpan.

"Do you want me to stay here?" Clarke asked, not sure how she would react to the answer she expected.

Again, Lexa's hands moved across some papers and it was a moment before she said, "I would prefer it."

Clarke's chin dropped to her chest and she bit her lower lip. It was so frustrating that Lexa spoke so few words, but they screamed volumes to Clarke. And she didn't know if she wanted to remain there with Lexa. She didn't want to trust her. But somehow she did, even though all her logic told her she shouldn't.

The thought of being alone yet another night, however, brought a new wave of exhaustion over her. Her shoulder leaned more heavily against the door frame as she shook her head with her chin still digging into her chest, and she sighed so quietly that Lexa might not have heard it.

"Okay. I'll stay." She said. Lexa looked over to her and gave her that simple, small nod Clarke had not forgotten. She moved about the room, extinguishing the candles one by one as Clarke watched lazily. Lexa turned her body slightly to pass Clarke in the doorway, slowing just enough to make sure she didn't touch her. Clarke closed her eyes and her breath hung in her chest as she heard Lexa put out the lights in the bathroom and the far side of the bedroom. When Clarke opened her eyes and inhaled again, she turned and found that only the lantern closest to her on the nightstand was still lit. Lexa stood between her and the bed and her face looked softer in the dim light. The brunette gestured to the other side of the bed, making it clear that Lexa would be closer to the door. Clarke didn't move and she felt her muscles tense. She had a fleeting feeling that she was being trapped. Then she knew it would be ridiculous to think Lexa wouldn't put herself between an enemy and Clarke. As she had done before the Mountain.

"You are safe here, Clarke." There was an earnestness in her voice. Clarke looked away as she dragged her fatigued, numb limbs around the bed. She moved some of the furs aside and sank into them. She rolled onto her side at the very edge of the bed and pulled the furs over herself. Lexa put out the last lantern and laid on her back under the furs on the other side of the large bed. Clarke was glad they were not close enough for her to feel the warmth of the other girl. As she let herself relax, however, she felt how the rise and fall of Lexa's chest displaced the furs ever so slightly between them.

Clarke felt the room humming with quiet, save for her own and Lexa's breathing. Eventually, she closed her eyes and sleep overcame her almost instantly.


	4. Chapter 4

Clarke woke with a start and a gasp, the images of familiar nightmares still flashing across her vision. Her heart pounded in her chest. She sat up quickly and pressed her palms hard against her eyes with an exhale that came out in an aggravated hiss. Clarke rubbed her eyes firmly and fought down the bile rising in her throat. She groaned at the churning of her stomach and the vivid images that still flashed in her mind's eye. Then she heard some shuffling and a light clink, and opened her eyes to the darkness of the room. She glanced over to the other side of the bed expecting to find Lexa, but the other girl wasn't there.

Beyond the door that led to the main room, open just a crack, she detected a faint light. Then Lexa appeared as the door creaked inward, a candle in one hand, two glasses held delicately in the other, and there was the glint of a bottle in the crook of her elbow.

She was plainly unsurprised to find Clarke awake and sitting up when their eyes met briefly. Lexa noiselessly paced around to Clarke's side and Clarke shuffled to the middle of the bed, her stomach still aching and her mind still not quite in the present. Lexa set the candle down on the nightstand along with the glasses. The cork came free with a low-pitched pop and Lexa poured two healthy measures of the amber liquid. She steadily returned the cork to the neck of the bottle and set it down gently. She took a glass in each hand and sat down on the bed by Clarke's knees, handing one to Clarke.

Clarke took it. She had been watching Lexa's hands - their sure, flowing movements. She had been using them as a distraction from the pangs in her stomach. But she finally looked at the brunette's face and even in the low light found it to be more haggard and weary than she had ever seen it. A sense of alarm took over Clarke and she watched Lexa take a tiny sip of the liquor and swallow it. Lexa stared at the glass that rested precariously in her own somewhat slack fingers, and Clarke thought she might drop it, might fall asleep as she sat before her.

"Did you sleep at all?" Clarke only just managed to vocalize the words above a whisper. Lexa breathed deeply, lifting her chin as her eyes rose to the blank wall in front of her.

"An hour or two, yes." She responded. The blonde peered into her own glass and studied the contents. She idly wondered what had woken Lexa, if she herself had woken her with fitful sleep, and how long she had been awake before this moment.

"I promise it is not poisoned." Clarke heard Lexa say, and she looked up to find the green eyes glossy with tiredness, languid, burdened. A breath left Clarke's nose, a ghost of a laugh, and she blinked lightly several times at the alcohol. She vaguely wondered how her stomach would feel about it, but she raised the glass to her lips. An impulsive thought came to her, and for a split second, Clarke wished Lexa was lying. She imagined them both collapsing, dead upon the soft furs.

The whiskey burned, warm and spicy, down her throat. Lexa watched her, and it seemed her eyes could not help but study Clarke's face. Then Lexa lifted her feet to rest on the frame of the bed, and her forearms rested on her thighs. Her glass was held aloft in the fingers of both hands between her knees and her eyes fell to fix on the floor in front of her as she took another sip.

Clarke could feel the hush of the night outside the building, and Lexa's movements made no sound, save for the falling of liquid into her mouth. In the time Clarke spent in a solitary cell on the Ark, she oscillated between allowing a deafening silence as she drew on the walls - and pounding on the the walls, screaming in protest. There was no in-between. And in that moment, Clarke didn't know if she wanted to throw herself out the window or if she wanted to see Lexa fly into a fit of rage, or a fit of despair, or… a fit of anything. Clarke wasn't sure Lexa even knew how to - if she allowed herself to do such a thing.

Clarke felt a shiver run down her spine, the terror of her dreams threatened to infect her mind and body as it had when she was alone in the woods. She drank from her glass before asking her next question.

"You have them too?" Clarke's voice was full, full of curiosity, of yearning, and… what she feared would turn out to be commiseration.

Lexa nodded and took another sip of the liquor.

"Drink," Lexa said, calmly, "it will help you sleep."

"Does it help you?" Clarke asked, not entirely trusting that Lexa believed what she said.

There was a long pause, and Lexa sighed deeply, in a way that Clarke had never heard before.

"Sometimes." And that was Lexa's only response. Simple, but honest. Clarke took another mouthful and reacted with a quick exhale, smelling the alcohol on her breath. Lexa also took another, larger sip and lowered her head. She seemed to be examining the threads of her shirt, then her eyes closed and her jaw clenched.

"Clarke?" The whispered question was barely loud enough to hear, but it was desperate. It was anguished. Clarke shifted under the furs, leaning forward slightly. Her hands gripped the glass in her hand harder than she really noticed.

But Lexa seemed unable to voice the words in her head. Clarke felt the air in the room, thicker even with their couple short hours of sleep, and felt herself succumb to fatigue again. Her body wanted to melt into the pillows and the fur, but her mind was awake. She accepted that Lexa's thoughts would go unspoken. The brunette only swallowed thickly, eyes still shut tight.

"Why don't you have more kill marks?" Clarke asked. It had waited in the back of her mind. She had wanted to ask when she first saw the branded skin. Clarke sensed that Lexa could have answered more quickly, the answer evident in her expression as her eyes opened, but something halted the brunette.

"When one becomes Heda, one stops receiving kill marks." Lexa said.

"How many kill marks do you have? From before?"

"Forty-two." Lexa responded so quickly, so sharply, that Clarke visibly flinched.

"How many would you have now?"

And Clarke could not tear her gaze away from Lexa. If Lexa could have stared daggers, the wall in front of her would have caved in. She clearly didn't want to have this conversation. Lexa took another sip from her glass and her eyes were heavy. It was a long moment before she responded.

"More than three hundred. Not counting the people in TonDC or the Mountain." Lexa's voice was dark. Clarke realized all at once that Lexa had not killed that many people in a ring of fire, or by reversing fatal flows of air. Lexa had killed hundreds of people in civil wars, in battles of swords and daggers and spears - in hand-to-hand combat. Lexa had, literally, the blood of hundreds on her hands.

Clarke felt her stomach drop like a boulder as she thought about what kind of nightmares must haunt Lexa. Involuntarily, Clarke moved to sit at the edge of the bed next to Lexa, one leg dangling over the side of the bed. Lexa stiffened and her back straightened. And again, Lexa's expression went blank as Clarke saw the mask return. Clarke's hand rose toward Lexa's shoulder, but just as her fingertips barely grazed over her, Lexa stood and walked toward the dresser, facing away.

Clarke felt the tug again, her heart contracting painfully in her chest.

"Lexa," Clarke wanted her to turn around, wanted her to know that they both felt the same thing. They both struggled with their past actions. They both tried to hide it from the rest of the world, from their people, and Clarke knew Lexa tried to hide it from her, too. Clarke wanted her to know that she cared. Clarke had loved her once, had been afraid of how much she felt for the young leader after so little time. She wasn't ready then, and she still wasn't ready. But she didn't want to lose Lexa either. She didn't want to - couldn't - lose the Lexa she knew before, the one that let herself be open and honest with Clarke.

"You showed me what you felt once. Why are you trying so hard not to show me now?" Clarke pressed, but Lexa remained eerily still.

"Depending on what your council says tomorrow, I cannot promise that I will not have to leave you again. I must put my people before myself." Lexa said seriously. Clarke got up and walked over, standing by Lexa's side so she could at least see the girl's profile.

"I know," Clarke nodded, "But you aren't fighting for nothing. You have to admit that you feel, that there are people you love. Sooner or later you'll die behind that mask if you don't." Lexa frowned, and a flash of fear rose in her eyes and quickly disappeared. Clarke trembled with the itch to touch Lexa, to grasp her arm and urge her to relent. Lexa drained the last of the liquor in her glass and stared at the floor. Seeing her this way made Clarke's heart pound uncomfortably in her chest.

After a moment, Lexa looked back up at her, and her eyes roamed over Clarke's face. Clarke saw so much sadness and so much pain in those green eyes. Lexa looked hopeless, lost. She looked like she wanted nothing more than to collapse into the blonde's arms even though her back was rigid and her head was held high. Lexa simply gazed at her, searching her eyes. Clarke's shoulders slumped and she felt her throat bobbing, threatening to give way to tears. Her lips pressed together and she collected herself. She reached out and gently took Lexa's fingertips in her own, and Lexa didn't flinch away this time.

"Not yet." Clarke said confidently, and this time she was saying it for Lexa more than herself. Lexa gave a shaky, understanding nod before turning to cross the room, setting the glass down on her nightstand. Clarke's hand felt empty as soon as Lexa took her fingers away. She looked down at her own drink before finishing the last of it. She set the glass on the dresser and turned around. Lexa had closed the door and got under the furs, lying on her back again. Clarke returned to the bed as well and settled on her side, but faced Lexa instead of the wall. Her arms lay limp in front of her. Clarke replayed the whole conversation in her head as her eyes stared into Lexa's long brown hair.

"You didn't put out the candle." Lexa said. Clarke didn't move. She looked to Lexa's face, seeing that her eyes were also still open. Clarke remembered that Lexa brought the candle in when she brought the bottle.

"You were already awake. You heard me wake up." Clarke said, her voice tired and quiet. Lexa blinked in affirmation.

"You sounded upset. I thought the drink might help." Lexa spoke softly, without judgment, as if someone had done for her what she did for Clarke. Clarke eyes fluttered closed and she took deep breaths, trying to relax, but her muscles were tensed and her chest felt tight.

"I'm afraid to go to sleep." The strained whisper left her lips like a confession. The air was dead, and Clarke wondered if Lexa might not speak, might let the silence speak for itself.

Lexa's hand dropped to the furs between them and lingered there for a second before slowly reaching out to rest on Clarke's forearm.

"I'm here." Lexa said. Her voice was tender and assuring. Clarke felt the weight of Lexa's hand and focused on the feeling of it as her muscles gradually relaxed, and she drifted off.


	5. Chapter 5

Clarke woke disoriented. When she remembered that she was no longer in the forest, she looked to the other side of the bed and again found Lexa absent. Instead, she saw the furs pulled over the pillows and Clarke's clothes were in a neat pile, her dagger resting in its sheath next to them. She realized she hadn't given her dagger a second thought after she threw it aimlessly before. Lexa must have searched for it at some point. Clarke got up, walked to the door, and pulled it open. The main room was empty. She closed the door again and paused for a moment as she realized that her eyes were not so heavy and Clarke felt, for the first time in a week, that she must have slept for more than a mere three hours solid. She dressed, pulled on her boots, and strapped on the dagger and gun. Clarke walked out of the main door and turned to the closest guard.

"Where is the Commander?" She asked respectfully.

"Heda should return from hunting shortly." And he gestured for Clarke to follow him. He led the way back to the elevator, and Clarke glanced sideways at the guard during the long ride down. He seemed to feel her eyes on him, but did not react. They left the tower and walked clockwise around it to a courtyard.

There was a fire, a spit, kilned clay slabs, and a jug of water in the center of the courtyard and Clarke stood surveying the area as Grounder warriors remained still while they stood post. Lexa suddenly came into view, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, carrying a fully grown cougar over her shoulders. They walked toward each other, converging near the fire pit. Lexa dropped the cougar down at Clarke's feet.

"I hope you're hungry." Lexa said, almost a little too purposefully.

"Starving." Clarke replied in exaggerated cheerfulness, and Lexa's lips jerked into a small, fleeting smirk before she knelt down in front of the animal and began to butcher it and Clarke watched as Lexa's skilled hands made quick work of the animal.

"You hunted this down yourself?" Clarke asked.

"Of course." Lexa said, glancing up at the blonde. Clarke nodded approvingly, and Lexa's eyes shone slightly with amusement. When Lexa finished, she cleaned the blood from her hands and prepared the cuts of meat.

Together, they put some on the spit and sat while it cooked. The guards were not too close, and they would not be overheard, but they sat in silence, their eyes sometimes getting lost in the flames, sometimes glancing at the other. Lexa reached to turn the spit as she spoke.

"What do you enjoy," she paused briefly, "when you are not Wanheda?" And Lexa glanced sideways at Clarke. Clarke did not care for the title, and she tilted her head warningly at the other girl, who simply raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"I like to draw, actually." Clarke said, and she had almost forgotten how much she used to look forward to drawing. There hadn't been much time to think about it after she landed on the ground. Lexa regarded Clarke for a moment, pondering, but Clarke could not determine her thoughts. Lexa turned her attention back to the spit. Clarke was surprised that Lexa had initiated a personal question and thought the conversation might continue, but it did not. After a while, Lexa took the meat from the spit and placed it on one of the slabs. She left the cooked meat to cool and started putting more of the raw meat on the spit, and Clarke got up to help. As soon as the spit was loaded up again, they sat back down to eat. Clarke ate more slowly than Lexa, trying to keep her fragile stomach from revolting. Lexa stood to mind the spit until Clarke finished.

"Did you have enough to eat?" Lexa asked mildly.

"Yes," Clarke said, standing also. "Thank you." Lexa nodded humbly. Then she took a deep breath.

"There is something we must do before we leave for your camp." Lexa said soberly.

"What's that?" Clarke inquired, noting the serious tone.

"A meeting with my generals and the Elders of Polis." Lexa replied flatly.

"And you want me there?" Clarke eyed the brunette and became nervous.

"Yes. Before I meet with your council, you must be witness to my agreement with mine." And Lexa paused.

"You cannot question it, no matter what happens. You will be there to observe and listen only. Do you understand?" Clarke's frown deepened, but eventually she nodded.

"Who are these Elders?" Clarke asked.

"They are former generals from each of the clans of the Coalition that reside in Polis. They are advisors and representatives."

Clarke nodded again, but she brooded over the words 'no matter what happens'.

"Lexa, what is this about?" Clarke's voice was demanding and apprehensive as they looked at each other.

"Do not worry, Clarke." And Clarke saw that Lexa's expression revealed nothing. But Clarke sensed that she was walking into something crucial, something that would affect the meeting of the Ark's council when they reached camp later that day.

"This way." Lexa turned and strode quickly back toward the tower entrance, and Clarke followed. Clarke's full belly felt queasy. Lexa spoke in Trigedasleng to the closest guard and he nodded and made his way toward the roasting meat.

They finally made their way back up, to a room where Clarke saw Lexa's throne, sunlight bathing the back of it. Clarke was startled when she saw Indra, two younger generals, and a dozen aged Grounders already present. They were standing in groups of three or four, and seemed to have been conversing quietly before the two leaders arrived. But upon seeing Lexa, they all murmured "Heda," and bowed their heads. All of the Elders then turned to look at Clarke, and most of them dipped their heads to her also. Clarke returned the gesture respectfully and consciously tried to straighten her posture. She turned her head to look at Lexa, who was apparently not going to make her announcement from her throne. This wasn't going to be a conversation - it would be a statement.

"Every Elder and general present knows of the threat to the Coalition - that the Skaikru and their understanding of the Mountain's technology are the target of Azgeda." Lexa said to the Grounders before her. They were all still except for Indra, whose chin lifted and her fingers tightened slightly on the hilt of her sheathed sword.

"What I propose is a formal alliance - should they agree - to make the Skaikru the thirteenth clan under the protection of the Coalition. Given this, should I, as the Commander of the Coalition, do anything to threaten this alliance or harm a Sky Person, I will be guilty of treason and suffer death, as will anyone else who betrays the Skaikru. Do the Elders and generals accept?"

The mask of the Commander was unyielding as she scrutinized the faces of the Grounders before her. Clarke's mouth fell open and disbelief consumed her. The Grounders all nodded and murmured their assent before Indra spoke. Clarke had barely even registered exactly what it was that Lexa proposed, but her heart was racing.

"The Elders and generals accept, Heda. With Clarke of the Sky People as witness." Indra's low voice resonated in the room. Clarke stared at Lexa, incredulous.

"I leave with Indra to meet with the Sky People. I trust you will care for Polis in my absence and make the necessary preparations." She waited for the Elders and her younger generals to nod their understanding, then turned to leave. Clarke caught Indra's eyes, and was surprised when the general gave her a small nod. Clarke blinked and suddenly remembered herself. She nodded in the direction of the Elders and hastily went after Lexa. She heard the doors close behind her.

She caught up with the brunette, who was striding down the narrow hall. Clarke grabbed her arm hard and stopped her.

"Lexa, what the hell are you doing?" Clarke burst out, glaring at the other girl.

"Making sure my people will hold me as accountable as anyone else, regardless of the fact that I am Heda. You told me I should have a convincing argument for your people - I think this will at least get their attention." Lexa was so calm and Clarke could barely stand it.

"When did you plan this? Why didn't you tell me?" Clarke's voiced was still raised.

"I could not risk you trying to undermine me in front of the Elders. That is why I spoke with them yesterday when my scout told me Lincoln was with you." Lexa's expression remained unchanged. Clarke scoffed and absent-mindedly ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head.

"Not all of them agree with me or my methods, but with Azgeda rearing its head, it makes sense to ally with Skaikru. This is the first step." Lexa moved closer to the blonde, trying to catch her eye. Clarke looked up at her and gave a defeated sigh.

"I…" Lexa's jaw set momentarily, "I'm asking you to try to trust me, Clarke."

Clarke gave her a stern look and chewed the inside of her cheek.

"Ok. But if you go behind my back on another decision, I'll kill you myself." Clarke's voice was low and menacing, but the words still landed without much sting.

Lexa's chin lifted slightly and she blinked.

"We are in this together from now on." Lexa said, and she nodded respectfully.

—

Neither spoke as Lexa led them to where horses stood ready, packed with supplies for the ride back to camp. They got on their horses and as they left, mounted guards joined in front of them, and Indra led more guards behind them. Clarke noted that they were leaving out of a different gate than she entered before - they did not pass through the village. When Polis was almost out of sight behind them, they brought the horses to a gallop. Throughout the ride, they slowed to give the animals a break, then picked up again.

They stopped at a stream to let the horses drink, and Clarke gave a sigh of relief when her feet hit the ground. She was not used to riding so fast for so long. One of the guards took the reigns of her and Lexa's horses after Clarke pulled her canteen out of one of the packs. She stretched with a wince and saw Lexa approach her.

"Not only the horses need a break." Lexa observed.

"Shut up." Clarke shot at her, not thinking of a better way to return the sass, and drank from the canteen.

"It's not long now." Lexa tried to sound reassuring. Clarke groaned quietly in acknowledgment. Lexa took an apple from one of her pockets and used her own dagger to cut it in half. She wordlessly held out a half to Clarke, and the blonde eyed her as she accepted it, raising an eyebrow.

"I can feed myself, you know." Lexa's hand with her own half of the apple paused halfway to her mouth and looked over to her.

"I'm sure you can. But I would rather you focus on getting stronger. Eat." Lexa said, nodding to the apple.

"What are you talking about? I'm fine, Lexa." The Grounder regarded Clarke with worry, and was seemingly unsure how to delicately phrase her thoughts.

"You have lost more weight than I think you realize, Clarke." Lexa said, then looked distractedly away and occupied herself by taking a bite of the fruit.

Clarke looked down at herself. For the first time, she actually saw the toll that the past two weeks had on her body. She thought of her own neglect, the night terror-induced vomiting, the constant queasiness that prevented her from eating too much in one sitting. In her solitude, she hadn't thought about how she started to roll the waistband of her pants over so they wouldn't fall down, and it just became habit. Her shirt hung loosely off of her and Clarke saw that even her wrists were too thin. She hadn't seen her own reflection in some time and wondered if her face was gaunt too.

Feeling suddenly ashamed, Clarke shoved her free hand into the pocket of her jacket and miserably took a bite of the apple. Lexa seemed to sense the shift in Clarke's mood, but did not look over again.

"It's ok, Clarke. It happens." And once again, Clarke got the feeling that she spoke from some personal experience. Clarke couldn't help but wonder about all the things she still didn't know about Lexa.

They rode hard again for a while before slowing the horses to a walk. Clarke had been thinking intently about Lexa's proposed alliance, wondering if the Ark council would consider it. She didn't know how much Lexa expected the Sky People to integrate with the Grounders, if at all. She thought about Lexa's gentle hands, Lexa's lips on hers. She thought of Octavia and Lincoln.

"Why wouldn't Lincoln enter Polis?" Clarke asked as she looked over to Lexa, and also spotted Indra several yards behind them out of the corner of her eye.

"Many still consider him a traitor. I put a kill order on him." Lexa said, and there was a stiffness in her voice.

"You put a kill order on him." Clarke repeated skeptically. Lexa nodded. "Why?"

"He defied me in front of hundreds of warriors. It would reflect badly on me not to show that there are consequences." Lexa's eyes seemed to darken as she spoke, but they were still guarded as they scanned the forest.

"You can't actually want Lincoln dead, though." Clarke fretted. "He wants peace more than anything. He wants to fight for all of us, not just your people or mine. Isn't that what this is all about? Your alliance?" Clarke's voice became more agitated. Lexa nodded before she spoke.

"There are some who do not agree with my choice. They wanted our people to have the blood of the Mountain Men. But you were the one who defeated them." And Lexa finally turned to look at Clarke, finding the blonde's face in a deep frown. Clarke thought of Reed, who likely did not care either way.

"My people are divided," Lexa continued, "about my leadership, about the Sky People… about you." Lexa looked ahead again. "The Coalition became fragile after the Mountain, even before it became clear the Ice Nation was hunting you. Things have been under control, probably because having the prisoners back and caring for them is still distracting most from riot. But that will not last. This alliance has the potential to either strengthen or destroy the Coalition." Lexa seemed to debate how she would say what she was thinking next, and Clarke looked away, her heart beating faster in her chest. She hadn't realized how fractured the Grounders had actually become after Lexa saved all of her people from Mt. Weather. Her stomach churned painfully.

"And no." Lexa finally answered her original comment, but her voice was quiet. "I do not want Lincoln dead. I will be ignoring the kill order while I am at your camp."

"And Indra? Your guards?" Clarke asked, matching her volume and glancing at Indra briefly.

"Indra will not harm him." Lexa said assuredly. "The guards will stay at the gates of your camp."

For a few minutes, Clarke reflected on everything Lexa said. Then she looked over with a raised eyebrow.

"Breaking your own rules now," Lexa returned her gaze as her jaw clenched, "I like it." Clarke finished with a smirk. Lexa's face became more serious at that, but Clarke thought she saw the faintest blush rise up the side of Lexa's neck.


	6. Chapter 6

When the camp came into view, Clarke saw the name over the gates: 'Arkadia'. She chewed at the inside of her cheek. She told the Grounders to wait as she rode up alone so she would be out of earshot. She dismounted, feeling her knees ache again with the relief, and walked closer to the gate. She saw Bellamy, Raven, Abby, and Kane approach on the other side.

"Where's Lincoln?" She demanded, foregoing pleasantries for the moment.

"Inside. With Octavia. Do we need to hide him?" Bellamy answered seriously. Clarke shook her head at him.

"He just needs to stay out of sight of the guards. The Commander is ignoring the kill order while she's here." She said.

"You really trust that?" Raven asked scornfully.

"Yes. I do." Clarke said firmly. "It's just the Commander and Indra, and they'll be unarmed." Clarke added, but she wished she didn't have to. Abby nodded nervously.

"Ok. Just come inside." Abby's voice was breathy, and she couldn't tear her eyes away from Clarke. Clarke signaled to the waiting Grounders.

Bellamy ignored the Grounders and greeted Clarke with a long hug.

"Hey, Princess. It's good to see you." And he smiled genuinely, but it was fleeting.

"You too." Clarke said. Raven moved closer as well, and Clarke saw she was favoring her good leg.

"Hey." She said as she hugged Clarke. "You're skinny." And Raven forced a chuckle.

"So I've heard." Clarke replied with a grimace, and she glanced over to where Lexa and Indra were relinquishing their weapons, and Lexa's sharp eyes met hers. Clarke looked away quickly and found her mother and Kane, waiting a couple yards ahead. Clarke and Abby walked to each other and her mother said nothing as Clarke felt her tight embrace. When they separated, Abby took Clarke's face in her hands.

"I'm glad you're back." She said simply. And Clarke wondered if she meant that she was glad to see her alive. Her mother released her and she looked to Kane, who seemed to be eyeing Abby as much as Clarke. He grasped Clarke's shoulder firmly, his lips pressed together. He turned to Lexa and Indra.

"Commander. General." He gave a small nod, which the two returned wordlessly. Everybody was tense. The standers-by were silent as well, except for a few small whispers. Clarke managed to spot Jasper, who glared menacingly at her. It did not go unnoticed by Lexa, who followed Clarke's gaze. The blonde was worried at the absence of Monty, who was nowhere to be found in the crowd.

"Shall we go inside?" Kane asked, and Clarke nodded. Abby and Kane led the way as Bellamy and Raven followed, and Clarke walked next to Lexa, Indra on the Commander's other side.

They walked through the halls of the Ark, which were familiar to Clarke, but Lexa and Indra both looked around cautiously, taking in every inch of the place. They arrived at the council room, where Lincoln and Octavia waited in front of the door. As if everyone knew what needed to happen next, the four Sky People moved to the side, leaving Clarke, Lexa, and Indra standing directly in front of the couple. Clarke watched as Lexa and Lincoln stared each other down, and Indra and Octavia did the same.

"Lincoln." Lexa addressed him calmly.

"Heda." He gave a small nod. His tone was respectful, but no longer quite as reverent as it might have been once.

"Do you wish to fight for the Coalition and the Sky People?" Lexa asked. Octavia shifted her weight next to him, bringing herself closer to his side, and Lincoln seemed to stand straighter and his face tilted just slightly in Octavia's direction while still holding Lexa's interrogative gaze.

"I wish to fight for the people who want lasting peace." Lincoln said definitively. "No matter what clan they claim." He added.

Lexa blinked and her chin dropped by a fraction, and Clarke could see she was satisfied with this response.

"Well spoken. Please, join us for council." And Lexa's eyes met both Lincoln's and Octavia's. "If that is acceptable?" And she turned to Clarke, who also looked to them and nodded.

"Of course." And she gestured for them to enter the council room.

Clarke poised herself at the head of the table and the rest ambled in. Across from Lexa, Indra, Octavia, and Lincoln on one side, stood Abby, Kane, Bellamy, and Raven respectively, on the other.

They all sat, and everyone looked at Clarke except for Raven, who eyed Lexa for a while.

"Ok," Clarke began heavily, "Let's begin."

Abby looked between Clarke and Lexa, and decided to speak.

"The ceasefire still holds?" Abby asked.

"Yes." Lexa replied. "But your people are in danger from the Ice Nation. Their queen seeks to take over the Mountain. She wants its weapons and technology." Abby and Kane recoiled.

Lexa looked at Clarke, who nodded and continued.

"And we have reason to believe she will try to capture us and torture us to get information on how to operate it. You need to bring everyone back from the Mountain until we can get rid of this threat."

"But we're using the Mountain's resources." Abby said. "The medical technology alone…"

"Is of no use if we are all dead." Indra said urgently. Lexa lowered her head to her general to silence her. Kane narrowed his eyes at Indra.

"What do you propose?" Kane asked, clearly wanting to get to the point.

"The offer on the table is for us to become the thirteenth clan under the Commander's Coalition. That will make it much harder for the Ice Queen to operate and try to undermine it. We would have more protection and less chance of open revolt from the Ice Nation." Clarke answered.

For the first time, Bellamy spoke.

"And if we do this, would we be expected to deploy the Mountain's weapons for the Grounders?" Bellamy asked sourly to Clarke. Clarke opened her mouth to reply, but Lexa cut her off.

"I do not wish for those weapons to ever be used again." Lexa's voice was steady, and she met Bellamy's gaze as he looked at her in disbelief.

"The people of the Ice Nation are isolated and live in fear of their Queen. She has brought them to follow her in the belief that I neglect Azgeda, that I targeted them more when the clans were at war with each other. She has them believe that everything my Coalition provides for them is actually her own doing." Lexa's jaw clenched and Indra bristled visibly. "But most of Azgeda are innocent. Victims of her hate. I will not drop missiles on them as the Mountain Men did to us. My targets are Nia and her inner circle."

"She's hungry for power." Clarke said. "She's a threat to all of us. We're going to have to fight against her at some point." She looked to Bellamy and Raven, whose expressions were more wary than Kane's or Abby's.

"I'd rather we do it together than alone." Clarke finished, and her eyes implored the Grounders and Octavia.

"How do we know you won't leave us to die again?" Octavia's voice was hard and she glared at Lexa. Lexa returned the gaze calmly.

"If Skaikru becomes the thirteenth clan and I betray you, I would suffer the same fate as any other traitor. Blood would have blood."

"The Commander has sworn it to the Elders." Clarke added, and Lexa looked to her seriously.

"I will not abandon you again." Lexa said, then after a pause she looked to Octavia again. "Unless you think I have a death wish." Octavia's eyes narrowed, but said nothing. After a moment, she and Raven shared a look, and Clarke wondered at their silent conversation.

"What if we can trust you, but you get taken out? How do we know your successor won't turn on us?" Abby chimed in again.

"There were rumors of an attempt on your life, Heda." Lincoln said darkly.

"What? Lexa-" Clarke's voice rose and she stared at Lexa.

"It's true. The assassin was reckless. He tried to attack me in streets of Polis. Hardly a threat." Lexa looked from Kane to Abby. Clarke wanted to interject, but Lexa continued.

"In the case of my death, my spirit will choose wisely. But I am well protected and I want to focus on nonviolence. I want all of our people to trust each other eventually. It has to start somewhere. You have heard my offer." Lexa finished. Abby and Kane looked at each other, both sighing.

"Would you mind giving us the room, Commander?" Kane asked, and Lexa and Indra immediately stood and turned to leave. Clarke left her chair and burst out the door. She growled under her breath to Lexa as she passed her, "follow me". Clarke heard her mother and Kane calling for her in confusion, but they did not follow.

Clarke strode furiously down the halls, and Lexa and Indra followed close behind her. Clarke found an empty room and as soon as Lexa was inside it she slammed the door after seeing Indra face the hall to stand guard. She stared angrily at Lexa and tried to even out her breathing.

"What troubles you, Clarke?" Lexa asked, her expression calculating.

"I don't like surprises." And Clarke huffed in annoyance. "Someone tried to kill you and you somehow failed to mention that?" It was Lexa's turn to look annoyed.

"As I said, the assassination attempt was careless, driven by fear. He was no match for me."

"What if the next one is? I can't have you dying on me, Lexa." Clarke sounded dangerous, the way she sounded when she made a threat.

"There are few who would be a match for me. I didn't tell you before because… it wasn't long ago that you had a knife to my throat. I thought you would have assumed there were other attempts on my life by this point." Lexa reasoned. Clarke shook her head at the floor and bit her lower lip in frustration.

"I'm not even a match for you with a blade. But I could have shot you in your sleep last night if I wanted to. The Ice Nation wants our technology? That includes guns, Lexa. Lots of guns that aren't trapped in the Mountain or in hazmat suits, but possibly in the hands of crazed Azgeda warriors." Clarke said urgently.

Lexa stared across the room, frowning.

"You are right." The Commander was fully present, her eyes fixed hard at the floor, thinking hard. Clarke saw that her hands balled into fists, her knuckles turning white.

"Hey," Clarke said softly, and her fingertips brushed lightly against Lexa's knuckles.

"We'll figure it out." Clarke said seriously. Lexa broke the contact quickly as she took a few paces to the right. She nodded and remained deep in thought. Several long seconds passed in silence.

"You asked me to try to trust you again. I need you to try, too." Clarke said.

"I could have bested you easily. But I deferred to you." Lexa said, her voice purposefully calm.

"What are you talking about?" Clarke asked.

"When you had your dagger at my throat. I resigned myself to death by your hand, if that is what you wanted." Lexa said, her voice was low and serene - unwavering. Clarke's brow furrowed.

"Why?" Clarke's voice was hushed.

"Because I trust your judgment. If you felt I deserved to die for my actions, I would rather it be by your hand. I have never stopped trusting you, Clarke." She said earnestly.

A sense of alarm came over Clarke. Beneath the still, cool exterior of the brunette, Clarke felt a storm raging. A storm of unresolved feeling, of doubt, of fear, of all the emotions Lexa refused to show.

"No." Clarke said, but she wasn't even sure how to voice the thoughts in her mind. She moved to stand in front of Lexa again. Lexa's eyes fell to rest somewhere around Clarke's shoulder.

"No," She repeated, "Trust me when I say I don't want to kill you. I don't want you to die." Clarke grabbed the collar of Lexa's coat over her collarbones with both hands and Lexa finally met her gaze.

"Your spirit stays where it is." Clarke insisted, and her eyes widened and her eyebrows rose, and she tightened her grip on the coat. "Right here. We're in this together, right?" Lexa blinked furiously and Clarke could feel the Grounder's breath quicken.

"Yes." Lexa said quietly, her voice a little strained. Clarke felt Lexa's chest shaking under her fists and she let go, moving back half a step. They held each other's gaze for a moment, letting the tension ease.

"I need some air." Lexa said suddenly, and her eyes crossed the metal walls disapprovingly. And Clarke knew what she meant. The blonde felt how enclosed it was in the Ark, almost like a cage. Clarke herself found it oppressive after getting used to living and sleeping outdoors with fresh air. Her brow furrowed in concern and nodded to Lexa.

"I imagine the council will want to talk to me alone for a bit anyway."

Lexa nodded and started to cross Clarke to leave, but Clarke put a hand on her upper arm and stopped her so they were still facing each other, shoulder to shoulder. Clarke's eyes lingered on the hand on Lexa's arm for a second before looking up into Lexa's face and speaking.

"I hope… you can realize that giving in doesn't mean you have to give up. I have to believe the fighting will stop one day."

Lexa's eyes stared into Clarke's, then dropped to the hand that pressed on her, then again to the floor before her head dipped and she left the room. Clarke did not turn to watch her leave.

Clarke sighed, hoping her words would sink into the brunette's mind. Clarke's fingers tingled from having grasped Lexa's coat so tightly.

Clarke waited a moment before stepping into the hall, finding it empty. She started making her way back to the Council room, but a burning pain rose in her abdomen and, wincing, she stopped to put a steadying hand against the wall. Abby rounded the corner and ran to Clarke as soon as she saw her.

"Clarke, what is it? What's wrong?" Abby's voice was suddenly anxious.

"It's just," and Clarke exhaled exasperatedly, "mild gastritis." The blonde avoided her mother's eyes, wanting to ask for help but not really knowing how. Abby nodded and her hands rubbed Clarke's shoulders for a moment.

"Ok. Let's get you something from the med bay." Abby said as she grasped Clarke's arm more firmly and guided her down the hall.

They were silent all the way to the medical bay. Clarke sat on one of the beds as Abby moved to the stores of medicine and extracted a packet.

"How long have you been vomiting?" Abby asked, clinically.

"A little over a week." Clarke responded in kind, not prepared to tell her mother how bad it had gotten. There was a pause as Abby stared at the pills in her own hand.

"And… each day?" Abby questioned, knowing what the answer probably was, but not wanting to believe it.

"At least once. But usually more." Clarke admitted quietly. Clarke couldn't help but notice her pants, baggier than they should be around her thighs. Shame, accompanied by a wave of nausea suddenly broke over her and she hunched forward, glancing around for something to vomit into if it got worse. Abby set the pills and a glass of water next to her daughter before reaching to hand her a bucket.

Abby seemed to make a sudden decision and went to a cabinet and pulled out an IV bag, then prepared equipment on the table next to her daughter. Clarke clamped her eyes shut, willing her stomach to calm. But her conversation with Lexa rang in her ears and she saw the defiant green eyes and Lexa's rigid posture. All Clarke could smell was metal and she wished she were outside. She felt trapped and the walls were too close and the metal reminded her of blood, of dead bodies, and the gritty smell of bomb-wrecked earth. She felt a churn and held the bucket closer to herself.

Clarke's stomach emptied into the bucket, but there was hardly anything to expel. Her throat and eyes burned, tears involuntarily washing over her face. She set the bucket aside, knowing she had nothing else to give. She laid down on her side, shaking arms clutching her torso. Abby moved to her, putting a hand to the girl's forehead.

"Clarke, honey, I'm going to give you fluids and something to help you sleep, ok?" Abby's voice was calm, but her worry was evident. Clarke could only nod weakly, and she closed her eyes. She felt Abby move around her and heard the crinkling of the IV bag. Abby gently pulled one of Clarke's arms toward her and Clarke felt the prick and gentle fingers pressing tape over the needle.

"Mom… what about the council?" Clarke managed to say, but she felt like the words travelled over gravel in her throat.

"You're my patient now. We'll resume when I see some improvement. Not before then." Abby was suddenly serious, making it clear that Clarke was not to argue. Clarke didn't, and she let fresh tears stream down her face before the medicine worked its way through her veins.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Hello lovely readers - I'm sorry this update has taken a while. Life is busy right now so writing is going slow. Thank you for the reviews so far. I always look forward to any feedback you'd like to give me on these chapters. The next update might take a little longer as well so apologies in advance. Happy reading.

When Clarke woke, she was instantly aware of how badly she needed to relieve herself. She sat up and removed the needle that was still in her skin. She saw that the saline bag was almost 3/4 empty. It must have been a second bag, which explained why her bladder was uncomfortably full.

When Clarke returned to the main room of the medical bay, Lexa stood just inside the main door.

"Lexa. How long have I been asleep?"

"It is morning. You slept through the night." Lexa's eyes surveyed Clarke closely. "Whatever your mother gave you certainly had an effect."

"Oh my god." Clarke rubbed her eyes quickly. She started toward the door. "The council. We have to reconvene." Lexa moved to stand in Clarke's way.

"Your mother asked me not to let you leave just yet. She wants to see you before she discharges you." Lexa said firmly.

"What, you're her watchdog now?" Clarke shifted her feet, straightening her back and glaring at the brunette. Lexa blinked and lifted her head.

"I sent Indra to find your mother when I saw you get up." Clarke opened her mouth, intending to continue with some verbal abuse but Lexa interrupted her. "I agree with your mother, Clarke. The council can wait a little longer. Your health must be tended to."

Clarke's shoulders slumped and she sat on the bed with a huff. She knew they were right, and she felt better than she had in recent memory, but she was still restless. Lexa sat at her side and caught her gaze.

"How are you feeling?" Lexa asked, a genuine look of care on her face. Clarke searched Lexa's eyes, not terribly concerned with responding. After a few seconds, Lexa seemed to relax slightly, and Clarke saw that while the Grounder was calm and seemed content to simply return Clarke's gaze, her eyes were tired.

"You and Indra sat here all night?" Clarke asked. Lexa simply nodded. Clarke's jaw set and she wanted to scold Lexa, tell her that she needed rest as much as anyone else, but knew it would fall on deaf ears.

"You could have at least come inside, slept on one of the beds when Indra took watch." Clarke reasoned, trying not to sound frustrated. Lexa's lips twitched, almost giving way to a small smile.

"Your mother didn't want you to be disturbed. Besides, I have spent many a night in less comfortable places and with less sleep. Your well being is more important." Lexa's tone was casual, factual. Clarke sighed.

"Why do you lose sleep just to make sure I rest? It's not your job to watch over me." Clarke's eyes narrowed as she saw something shift in Lexa's face. Lexa looked away and didn't voice whatever had crossed her mind.

"What is it?" Clarke pressed, trying to catch the other girl's eyes again.

"I am responsible, Clarke. I want you to get better. You don't deserve this." Lexa said, and Clarke saw her jaw clench. The blonde frowned, not knowing how to respond, and it seemed Lexa would not explain her statement further.

"What exactly do you feel responsible for?" Clarke asked, still trying to will Lexa to look at her.

"I forced your hand. My decision is the reason you are suffering. I stand by my decision, but I cannot ignore the consequences of it." Lexa stared unseeingly at the floor. Clarke saw what she could only describe as sorrow in Lexa's eyes.

"I made my own decisions, Lexa. I did what I had to do, same as you. I'm responsible for what I did. The demons I have to deal with are my own." Clarke's voice was hard. Lexa blinked as she shook her head slightly, clearly unsatisfied with Clarke's words.

"Lexa-" Clarke reached to turn Lexa towards her, but Lexa stood, taking a few steps and facing away. Clarke stood and sighed shortly in aggravation.

"Look, we all have guilt. We've all had to do things that will haunt us for the rest of our lives. I know I have a lot to work through, but so do you. Stop trying to be above it all and trying to make yourself feel better by burying your feelings and taking care of everyone else."

"I have to be above it all," Lexa burst out suddenly, turning to finally look Clarke in the eyes, "I do not have the luxury of surrendering to my pain. All I can do is try to ease the suffering of others instead of causing more than I already have. I will always be a part of your pain. I may never be able to atone for that, but I have to try." Lexa paused for the shortest breath, as if debating with herself.

"I did not just betray our alliance at the Mountain. I destroyed any hope that you could still feel for me what I feel for you. But I still care. And I cannot bear the thought of hurting you again. So I try to bury my feelings in an attempt to keep you safe." Lexa's voice shuddered as she spoke, trying to keep her emotions under control. Clarke was momentarily stunned, her mind racing at this confession. It was unlike Lexa to speak so freely about her feelings, and Clarke knew that the offer to join the Coalition was more than a political move for Lexa. She didn't want to have to choose between her people and Clarke ever again. Lexa wished that she could choose with her heart, but it still scared her.

Clarke's heart was pounding and her eyes started to well up with the beginnings of tears. She felt color rise in her cheeks and the back of her neck. In spite of all the pain, all the heartbreak, she could not pretend that she didn't still feel for Lexa. Clarke had always been inexplicably drawn to Lexa's humanity, her compassion, her strength, her great capacity for love even when she didn't allow herself to show it. There had been something electric between them since they first met. And now Lexa was on the verge of having it all tumble out and she was trying desperately not to let it.

Clarke closed the distance between them and cupped Lexa's face in her hands. Lexa made a feeble attempt to shake her head away, but Clarke held on, forcing Lexa to return her gaze.

"When I first started having nightmares, one of the things I always saw was you turning your back to me and walking away. So yea, maybe you will always be a part of my pain, but you're also one of the only people who understands, who makes me feel like I'm not so alone - or crazy. I can't explain it, because everything has been so fucked up since I landed on the ground, but I can't deny the fact that I need you." Clarke spoke so earnestly, and she herself almost couldn't cope with how true her words were. And Lexa had inhaled sharply and she was blinking rapidly, her eyes moving back and forth between Clarke's eyes.

"I need _you_ , Lexa. It hurts every time you turn away from me. I know it makes no sense for me to want you, but I do." As Clarke finished speaking, she impulsively grazed her thumb across Lexa's cheek and she moved very slightly closer.

"Clarke." Lexa said defeatedly. Her hands rose to take Clarke's and her head dropped as she carefully removed the blonde's hands from her face and let go of them. With her eyes closed, she spoke again, just above a whisper, and it shook with fear and despair.

"I would not survive it if you were tortured and killed because of me. I would not survive it this time." Lexa looked up to Clarke, her lips showing the slightest tremble.

"I cannot be yours, Clarke. I'm sorry."

As if paralyzed, Clarke stood motionless, mouth open in distress, and silently watched Lexa's face turn from sunken to stoic. Over Lexa's shoulder, Clarke saw her mother walking down the hall. Lexa's gaze followed Clarke's and found Abby just as she entered the medical bay. Abby quickly looked between the two girls and seemed to sense something was wrong.

"Commander, would you wait outside please? I'd like to examine Clarke." Abby made her request respectfully, but her eyes bore down on Lexa as the Grounder nodded and left. Abby eyed her daughter warily as she moved closer to her.

"What happened?" She wasted no time before asking Clarke to explain. The blonde's eyes lingered on the door, sure that Lexa resumed her post just outside of it.

"Nothing," Clarke frowned as she met her mother's eyes, "I just really want to kill that Ice bitch."

They spent most of the day in the council room, going back and forth on what to do about the Ice Nation and the Mountain. There were debates back and forth about whether the Coalition should strike first against Nia or take a more defensive approach. Clarke was impressed that, for the most part, everyone managed to talk civilly, but Clarke could see Lexa's frustration grew with each hour. She was not accustomed to working with others to make a decision. By the time everyone was hungry for dinner and still nothing had been agreed upon, Clarke decided to wrap it up for the day and reconvene again the next morning. Bellamy and Octavia had huffed out of the room, immediately going separate ways. Raven set her legs up on the table with her hands clasped in her lap, a deep frown on her face. Abby and Kane talked quietly, and Clarke noticed the almost-smiles on both of their tired faces. Indra and Lincoln also murmured to each other, but they were both their usually stoic selves.

Finally, Clarke and Lexa found each other's gaze. She still wasn't sure how to come back to their earlier conversation, so Clarke wordlessly got up and left the room, determined to find some dinner and go to bed early. She had a slight headache from being inside all day and trying to moderate the conversation going back and forth, with still nothing to show from it. Outside, she found Octavia dishing up a bowl of stew for herself and moved next to her to do the same. They sat in silence as they ate, and Clarke could not take her mind off the aching of her heart when she thought of Lexa's pained confession. She noticed that Octavia eyed her curiously a couple times.

Clarke didn't know if it was because she was tired or distracted by annoyance that the day hadn't been more productive, but her stomach was relatively calm and she appreciated the warm fullness that she hadn't felt in a while. It made her body feel heavier, though, so she made her way back into the Ark and found her mother in her room. Abby seemed to want to talk, but Clarke asked to leave it for the time being. She wanted quiet and Abby seemed reluctant for a moment, but then she tucked Clarke into bed and settled herself down next to her.

Clarke was still awake almost an hour later, and Abby was fitfully trying to fall into actual asleep. She was somewhat comforted by Abby's presence next to her, but the constant shifting made Clarke uneasy. She also forgot how cold the Ark was even on the ground. The metal walls blocked sound from the outside and the air was eerily still. When Abby finally seemed to settle into a comfortable position, Clarke carefully got up and made her way outside the Ark.

Clarke saw Lexa's tent set up to the left just inside the gates, a small flickering light illuminating the canvas. She thought to approach, to finally have some time alone with Lexa and talk between just the two of them again. But she saw Raven and Octavia by a small fire, a bottle of moonshine in Raven's hand, and moved to sit with them.

"Long day, Princess." Raven said, handing the bottle to her. Clarke accepted it and took a small sip, nodding lazily. They sat in silence for a while, all exhausted. Clarke was surprised when Octavia spoke.

"The Commander is different." She said simply. Clarke frowned and Raven's eyebrow rose as they both looked over to her.

"What do you mean?" Clarke asked.

"There's more… emotion in her decisions. She's still trying to make smart moves, but…" Octavia shook her head once, trying to find the right words.

"She said she doesn't have a death wish, but… I don't know," Raven murmured. "She was so flippant talking about her dying yesterday. It almost seems like she's ready to die for this."

Raven and Octavia looked at each other in silent conversation. Clarke looked between the two of them for a moment, then took another drink from the bottle and offered it to Octavia.

"What is it? Spit it out." Clarke said flatly, not appreciating their hesitance. The two continued to look at each other, as if neither one wanted to speak first.

"She's…" Octavia started, looking at Clarke as if she wasn't sure how she'd react, "She's ready to die for _you_. She cares about you. More than the rest of us."

Clarke was taken aback, but she tried her best to hide it. Her eyebrows rose and she simply tilted her head.

"She sees me as our leader. She trusts me. I don't think she's confident she can broker peace with any of the other Skaikru." Clarke reasoned calmly.

"And that's why she stood guard outside of med bay all night? That's why you pulled her aside when you freaked that someone tried to kill her?" Raven scoffed and the beginnings of a smirk appeared on her face. "You're really going to tell us she hasn't made a move on you?" Raven asked in disbelief. Clarke recoiled and felt Octavia eyeing her.

"No." And Clarke sounded like she was telling the truth, only because the blonde was thinking of the past couple days. She was thinking only about the comfort she had tried to find with Lexa since she arrived in Polis, most of which had been snubbed - not about the kiss they shared before the Mountain. Raven rolled her eyes but accepted this for the moment as she grabbed the bottle from Octavia, who proceeded to stare into the fire.

"Well," Raven took a healthy swig, "Wouldn't hurt either of you to just get laid already. You're too uptight and she's downright nihilistic." Clarke shot her a dark look, daring her to continue.

"What? Just calling it how I see it. I hate the bitch but…" Raven shrugged one shoulder and took another sip before offering it to Clarke. The blonde took it once again and took a sip, holding the moonshine in her mouth, letting the burn of it wash over her tongue as she pondered. She looked at Octavia, who still gazed into the flames, her expression cool and thoughtful. She wondered if Octavia did not contribute because she understood better than Raven what Clarke might be going through with Lexa. Clarke took one last swig from the bottle before setting it on the ground next to Octavia.

"Good night. I'll see you in the morning." Clarke said, and without looking back at them or giving any explanation, she walked over to Lexa's tent and entered without announcing herself.

Lexa sat on her bedroll cross-legged, back straight, with her sword and a whetstone in her hands. She looked up at Clarke calmly, and gave a nod before again focusing her attention on sharpening her sword. Clarke sat similarly in front of her and simply watched Lexa's movements in silence for a moment.

"I meant what I said this morning." Clarke said softly.

"So did I." Lexa replied, not looking at her. Clarke's brow furrowed and she pressed her lips together fretfully. Clarke realized that all she wanted in that moment was to see Lexa at ease, see the girl she knew under the mask.

"Lexa," Clarke leaned forward and gently put a hand on Lexa's knee. "It makes me feel better knowing you're here for me." Lexa looked up at her, her eyes searching Clarke's.

"Even if it's not the way I want." Clarke felt the small, sad smile on her face as she returned Lexa's gaze. Without looking away, Lexa set down the whetstone in her hand and placed her arm over Clarke's and gave the smallest smile in return, nodding appreciatively. Clarke released them from the touch and began to fidget with a loose thread on the sleeve of her jacket.

"I guess it's too much to ask for us to be ready at the same time, huh?" Clarke smirked to herself, but she couldn't keep the gloominess from her voice. She heard a small breath leave Lexa's nose and she looked up to find a bigger smile on Lexa's face. Even though her eyes were still tired and sad, it was enough for Clarke to see that the mask had fallen away.

"You said you have to believe the fighting will stop someday." Lexa said, her eyes intently poring over Clarke's face. "I try to believe that too." Clarke swallowed and nodded, not knowing what else to say. Lexa finally tore her eyes away to look for the whetstone she had set down. Clarke closed her eyes as the moonshine started to settle in her brain.

"Can I sleep here? I couldn't sleep in there. It's too… close." Clarke didn't know how else to describe it, but she knew she wouldn't sleep well in the Ark.

"Yes." Lexa answered simply. Clarke opened her eyes, trying to catch Lexa's, but the brunette was busying herself with storing away the whetstone, and carefully placed the sword alongside the furs. Clarke only just noticed that there was another bedroll next to Lexa's, also covered in furs. Clarke didn't mention it, but silently appreciated that Lexa had prepared for the possibility that Clarke would join her. The blonde laid herself down wordlessly. Lexa did not extinguish the candle that burned close by, and the two of them laid on their backs, only inches apart in the small tent. Clarke took a deep breath, taking in the scent of the fire smoke, the canvas, the alcohol on her own breath, and Lexa. As she exhaled, Lexa spoke.

"When it is over, you will be welcome in Polis. You can make a home there if you wish." Clarke's brow furrowed, as she was certain this was not what Lexa really wanted to say.

"With you?" Clarke asked, knowing she was pushing.

"I may not survive." Lexa answered too quickly. Clarke sighed.

"We can talk more about Polis when this is all over." Clarke said. Lexa nodded, her eyes fixed on the canvas covering them, as they had been since they laid down. Silence engulfed them once again except for the murmurs of conversation from Arkers still chatting beside fires or on watch at the gates.

"Are you finding it difficult to involve your heart in your decisions?" Clarke asked, her tone somewhat sardonic. Lexa's lips pressed together slightly and she blinked a few times at the ceiling of the tent before answering.

"It seems I must involve my heart for things to truly change. But I will likely not live to see the change. To see if I made the right choices." Lexa's voice was quiet and burdened. Clarke turned her head to look at Lexa, her brow furrowed in frustration as Raven and Octavia's comments rang in her ears.

"Do you _want_ to die, Lexa? You seem pretty sure that you're not going to survive this war."

Lexa's jaw clenched as she turned her head to answer.

"No. It is not my wish to die. But there are few Hedas that lived past a certain age. And my position is not as stable as it once was. It is not wise to assume I will live through every war I wage. Especially this one." Clarke swallowed roughly at this response and Lexa fixed her eyes upward again. "But do not worry, Clarke. I have already made preparations." Lexa herself did not seem concerned, so Clarke let the comment lie for the time being, and returned her own gaze to the top of the tent. Clarke let her mind wander and she thought of the anger that had washed over her whenever she heard about the Ice Queen, whenever she saw both Lexa and Indra bristle at the mention of her. The blonde then thought of Lexa's lover who had fallen victim to the cruel woman.

"Tell me about Costia." Clarke tried to sound as gentle as she could. A silence followed, as Clarke expected, but she did not feel Lexa tense or shift uncomfortably at all.

"She was not chosen to be a warrior. We are all raised with basic combat skills, but most end up working a trade. She was a carpenter." And Lexa's voice softened slightly, becoming warmer. "She crafted most of my furniture, actually. Some pieces were gifts for significant moments."

"Like what?" Clarke asked, enjoying the sound of Lexa's voice, unusually tender.

"The war table was a gift after I was called to lead the Trikru." Lexa offered.

"What about when you made the Coalition?" Clarke figured this would have been another milestone for Lexa. The brunette's inhale got caught in her chest. Clarke was almost about to apologize, afraid she had unknowingly hit a nerve, but Lexa exhaled evenly and spoke.

"The bed frame. She said she wanted to celebrate that I wouldn't be gone to battle all the time - that I would instead be with her, in the bed she made for us." Clarke's eyes closed before she could help it. Both of them allowed another couple moments silence, Clarke wanting Lexa to have her own thoughts after sharing that information, and Lexa taking the opportunity to do so.

"What about your throne?" Clarke asked next, hoping this was not another difficult question to answer.

"No, that has been passed down from previous Commanders. Costia hated it." Lexa let an amused breath escape her nose and Clarke could just see in her periphery that Lexa's lips had turned up in a very small smile. "She thought it was ugly." Clarke took the chance to share a quiet laugh with Lexa, letting it guide them away from heavier conversation for now. Clarke struggled to form words as the moonshine and the deluge of thoughts shared over the day swirled in her mind. Before she knew it, she was asleep.


End file.
